


When you love a papyTON

by aroseandapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Too much brother banter, papyton, set up for it at least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroseandapen/pseuds/aroseandapen
Summary: It’s Papyrus’ first birthday on the surface, and somehow he ended up getting the biggest monster celebrity to come to it. Cue the struggle to not make everything awkward with his fanboying. Somehow everything works out.Probably.(And other Papyton short works)





	1. Introducing...

**Author's Note:**

> There’s always a need for more Papyton in this world, so I decided to finally write my own. What better way to do that than to follow along with the 100 Themes list?
> 
> The first is ‘Introduction’. The next is Complicated.

“so,” Sans began around a mouthful of oatmeal. Bits of mush flecked across the table in front of him. “pap.”

Papyrus grimaced at the sight, resisting the urge to gag. “SANS! DON’T START TALKING WITH FOOD IN YOUR MOUTH!”

He swore that he saw his brother’s grin widen just a bit at his reaction. A firm scolding rose up to his mouth, and Papyrus was prepared to launch into a full blown rant about his brother’s disgusting habits and how anything that he needed to say could just wait until he swallowed, if Sans should protest.

Fortunately, Sans seemed to be on the same page. He didn’t attempt to speak again, finishing what he had in his mouth. Not so fortunately, he didn’t seem to be inclined to start speaking again. It probably wasn’t anything important. Papyrus shouldn’t worry about it. It was probably some silly pun, and Papyrus would regret allowing himself to be led into it.

Despite knowing that… he was still curious about what Sans had been planning to say.

“SO…” Papyrus tried to lead him back into it, fighting not to look down at the spat out food that Sans hadn’t quite had the decency to clean up. When Sans didn’t continue, it was all Papyrus could do not to groan. “…WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY?”

There was a silence, in which Sans took another languid bite of his oatmeal, and in which Papyrus felt like screaming. Just when he was about to push his own bowl away and storm from the table in absolute refusal to entertain his brother’s games, Sans started up again.

“so.” Sans glanced off to the side, at the kitchen wall. “your birthday is coming up pretty soon here, huh?”

Papyrus followed his brother’s gaze, to the big calendar pinned to the wall there. He used it to keep track of events and important things that he had to do, his own handwriting cramped into almost every available space. Sans didn’t write anything on it, but since they had moved into their house on the surface he had dutifully marked off each day that passed.

He didn’t have to see the calendar to know how far away his birthday was. It wasn’t written up there anyway, but that didn’t stop the haunting awareness that it was just a small handful of days away. Papyrus didn’t appreciate the reminder.

“OH.” Hopefully Sans heard the mild surprise that he hoped to force into his voice. “IT IS. I HAVEN’T GIVEN IT VERY MUCH THOUGHT, I GUESS.”

Sans let out a neutral hum. If he saw through Papyrus’s little lie, he didn’t call him out on it. He didn’t even pull his eyes away from the calendar. Papyrus wondered what was going on inside his brother’s skull. He wondered if he’d ever know.

“what do you think about having a birthday party this year? haven’t had one since you were a babybones.”

“NO.” Papyrus answered too fast, and he inwardly cringed at himself. He hurried to amend his mistake. “OBVIOUSLY I’M NOT A BABYBONES ANYMORE, AND BIRTHDAY PARTIES ARE POINTLESS ANYWAY!”

More than that, birthday parties were always a disappointment. It was better to long for a party full of people there to celebrate him turning a year older until his soul ached. Better than to face the sharp, bleak rejection of his peers as he had over and over again. Sans didn’t have to know that, though, and so Papyrus simply ‘grew out’ of having parties. He was an adult skeleton after all.

“that’s true.” It was difficult to tell from Sans’s tone whether he really did agree with Papyrus’s reasoning. “but maybe you might want a party this year? it’s not just your birthday; it’s also your first birthday on the surface. could have a nice little party, all our friends coming over just for you and giving you gifts… sounds nice, don’t it?”

“…YEAH.” Papyrus had to admit that Sans did paint a pretty picture. His chest did an uncomfortable little flop, soul twinging. He wanted to have that party. “I DON’T KNOW, IT’S PROBABLY TOO SHORT OF A NOTICE ANYWAY. EVERYONE’S PROBABLY ALREADY MADE PLANS FOR THAT DAY, IT’S TOO LATE. MAYBE I CAN HAVE A FIRST SECOND BIRTHDAY ON THE SURFACE NEXT YEAR.”

Sans had turned to look at him at this point, but Papyrus dropped his gaze down to the table, staring hard at his food as he pushed the oatmeal around in his bowl. It was cold and unappealing at this point. He probably wasn’t going to finish it.

“nah.” Still Papyrus didn’t look up. “i betcha undyne would drop everything to come to your party. she wasn’t around for it last year, and she’d probably kill you if you deprived her of the chance to come over and celebrate your birthday with you. alphys too, except she probably wouldn’t kill you. she’d probably have a few stern words for ya, though.”

One last pause. “tori and the kid, too. they love ya, bro.”

Papyrus clenched his hand around the spoon handle. Wowie. In just the last year, he’d met so many more people. So many friends. Just the other day he had a picnic with Frisk and Undyne and Alphys, and Undyne had shoved Papyrus right into the pond, laughing at his squawking until Alphys shoved her right in after him.

A smile tugged at his mouth. They were his friends; of course they’d come to his birthday party if he asked them.

Yet he couldn’t shake that anxiety that they wouldn’t, that little twisting in his soul that made his magic shiver in his marrow. What if he was wrong? Papyrus never had any friends before. What if they really didn’t like him as much as he thought that he did.

“so… how’s about it, bro?”

Now more than ever, Papyrus wouldn’t be able to handle their rejection.

“WELL…” He inhaled, letting the air fill up his chest cavity, allowing it to pillow around his soul, feeling his magic pulse through it. He wouldn’t know if he didn’t even try to have a party, huh. They were his friends. They were. “IF IT’S JUST A SMALL PARTY, WITH OUR CLOSEST FRIENDS, I’M SURE THAT IT’D BE FINE.”

The way his brother’s smile warmed was worth the possibility of this blowing up in his face.

“cool. if you want, i can pop by the store after breakfast and pick up some invitations.”

Papyrus shook his head. “NO! I CAN DO EVEN BETTER THAN THAT.” He pushed his bowl away and stood to leave. “YOU STAY RIGHT HERE, AND I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.”

If he was going to be having a birthday party, then he was going to put his all into it. There would be no store-bought invitations and half-baked ideas for Papyrus!

When he returned to the kitchen, it was with an armful of art supplies. He had a ream of colored papers, a variety of glitter pens, and bits of scrap fabric with glue to stick them on. Sans watched curiously as he dumped the armload in the clear space on the table.

“WE CAN MAKE THE INVITATIONS! EACH ONE WILL BE SPECIAL, OF COURSE, AND SINCE WE’RE ONLY INVITING OUR FRIENDS, IT SHOULDN’T TAKE THE TWO OF US TOO LONG TO MAKE THEM ALL.”

He paused, looking from his brother to the pile.

“I MEAN, IF YOU WANT TO HELP ME THAT IS. I THOUGHT IT’D BE FUN IF WE WORKED ON THEM TOGETHER.”

“course i’ll help, bro.” Sans scooted his bowl aside to bowl some of the pile toward him. “what’s the plan?”

Papyrus plopped down into his chair, tearing out a piece of paper to begin folding. “I WAS THINKING ABOUT TURNING THEM INTO ORIGAMI HEARTS! FRISK SHOWED ME HOW TO MAKE THEM—THEY’RE REALLY CUTE! AND THEY’RE FLAT TOO, SO THEY’RE PERFECT FOR WRITING ALL THE INFORMATION ON! AND WE CAN SPICE THEM UP WITH SOME GLITTER AND THINGS, TOO, FOR EXTRA PERSONALIZATION. HERE, I’LL SHOW YOU HOW TO DO IT.”

After making sure that Sans was watching him and not flaking off on him, Papyrus showed him how to do the folds, and after that they settled into work. Between the two of them, the pile of invitations slowly grew. Too many perhaps, considering that Papyrus still didn’t have a great many friends, but he enjoyed the act anyway.

“DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT PEOPLE WILL COME?” Papyrus didn’t look up from what he was doing, dragging a sparkling red line around the border of one of the invitations.

“sure they will. they’d be stupid not to come and hang out with the coolest skeleton ever.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “WELL, THAT’S TRUE…” It didn’t stop his worry that no one would show up, but he appreciated the compliment nonetheless.

“and if they don’t, you’ll still have me, bro. i’ll make sure to eat all of the food, too. i’ve always wondered what those little weenies taste like in a cake. maybe drizzled in ketchup, too…”

Papyrus grimaced. “THAT’S DISGUSTING!”

Sans shrugged, grinning at him. “you never know. maybe it’s actually really good. i’ve got to do it for science.”

“YOU DO NOT!”

People just had to come to his party, if only to stop his brother’s gross eating habits.

Once armed with his own bundle of invitations in his bag, Papyrus went off to deliver them. Sans promised to hand one off to Alphys. The scientist was probably quite busy, and Papyrus didn’t want to bother her, but Sans was interested in asking her a couple of questions, and the party invitation would be a good excuse for it, he told Papyrus. In the meantime, Papyrus would give invitations to Undyne, Frisk, and whoever else came to mind.

First of course was his best friend, and the former captain of the Royal Guard!

Undyne didn’t leave him waiting for long after he knocked, before she threw the door open with a big, toothy grin.

“Hey, Papyrus! What’s up, dude?”

Despite his earlier apprehensions, Papyrus found himself grinning along with Undyne. He was worrying over nothing, wasn’t he? This was Undyne! His friend! Of course she wasn’t going to refuse if he invited her to a birthday party!

“HELLO, UNDYNE, WHAT IS UP?” He began ruffling through his bag, pulling out one of the invitations. “I DECIDED THAT I’M GOING TO BE HAVING A BIRTHDAY PARTY THIS YEAR—BECAUSE IT’S OUR FIRST YEAR ON THE SURFACE—AND I CAME TO PERSONALLY DELIVER ONE OF THESE TO YOU!”

Undyne took the origami heart from them, eyebrows raised as she checked it over. “Oh shoot, your birthday is coming up? I had no clue!” Her eyes widened a fraction. “Dude! That’s so close! Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Papyrus found himself fidgeting with the end of his scarf, trying hard not to avert his gaze. “UM, WELL, I GUESS I JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT. I’VE BEEN QUITE BUSY UP HERE, YOU KNOW AND I SUPPOSE IT JUST… SLIPPED MY MIND?”

And he hadn’t been planning on having a birthday party in the first place, but she didn’t need to know that.

“You big dork. But duh I’m going to come, and I’m going to give you the best ever present too, so just you wait!” Her grin twitched, and Papyrus was suddenly reminded of the few moments just before Undyne initiated snow wrestling. He glanced around just to be sure that there wasn’t any surprise piles of snow that she might have seen. “Hey, you think I can get another of these invitations?”

There was definitely no snow, phew. Papyrus turned his attention back to her. “IS IT FOR ALPHYS? BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE THAT SANS IS GOING TO GIVE ONE TO HER, SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT INVITING HER!”

“No, that’s not it! Uh… It looks like you worked really hard on these things! I need a second one that I can put up on my fridge, you know?”

No, Papyrus didn’t really know. He couldn’t see why she wouldn’t put up her own invitation, if that was what she wanted to do. Still, it wasn’t as if there was a scarcity of his invitations, so with a shrug he pulled another out and handed it over.

“OF COURSE! AND IF YOU EVER WANT ME TO TEACH YOU HOW TO DO THEM, I’VE BEEN LEARNING A WHOLE BUNCH OF ORIGAMI STUFF LATELY! IT’S REALLY FUN AND I’M PRETTY MUCH AN EXPERT BY NOW, SO I’D BE HAPPY TO TEACH YOU WHAT I KNOW!”

“I’ll hold you to it then, nerd. Can’t wait for your party! You know I’ll be there!”

After Undyne went back inside and Papyrus went on his way, he felt as if his soul was soaring. Already he had at least one guest! That would make his party his most successful one yet.

He was more excited for his birthday than he’d been in years now.

———————————————————————————

The day of his birthday came and the party was a success. Undyne, Alphys, Frisk, Toriel, even King Asgore, and that little white dog managed to sneak in among his guests. He completely forgot about so many parties left unattended, with so much planned only for Papyrus to be alone with Sans trying to pull together the pieces.

So with so many people here, just for him, it was perfect. There was no way that his party could be any more perfect.

“HELLO, DARLINGS, IT IS I!”

Wait, was that…?

Papyrus whipped his head in the direction of the front door so fast that his skull might’ve flown off with the force of it. Oh my god, it was, Papyrus would recognize that form anywhere.

“M-METTATON?”

The celebrity in question wheeled over, making his way for Papyrus.

“I was so delighted when Alphys gave me the invitation and asked me to grace your party with my wonderful presence. Especially knowing that the birthday boy is a sweet, handsome skeleton such as yourself.”

Yes, this was exactly how Papyrus was going to die.

Past Mettaton, Papyrus saw Undyne, lurking over by the wall with Alphys. When he caught her eye, she gave him a grin and a thumbs up.

‘Happy birthday!’ she mouthed.

Oh. Oh my god. Was this what Undyne meant by his birthday present? Was this why she needed a second invitation?

His cheekbones burned. She got him Mettaton? The Mettaton?! As a guest at his birthday party.

He wasn’t ready for this!

“OH!!! WELCOME, I’M REALLY GLAD THAT YOU COULD MAKE IT, WITH WHAT MUST BE A VERY BUSY SCHEDULE OF YOURS!”

“Of course, darling, anything for a friend of dear Alphys.” He rested a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, the pressure light but oh my god, Mettaton was touching him. Papyrus was going to die.

Or better than that, he was going to get something to drink. And Mettaton as well. He couldn’t forget to be the gracious host that he needed to be!

“WOULD YOU LIKE A DRINK, METTATON?”

“That’s sweet of you, Papyrus.” There was no mouth to smile, but Papyrus could hear the light amusement and warmth in Mettaton’s voice. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the capacity for drinks when I’m like this. No mouth.”

Papyrus resisted the urge to pull his scarf up over his face. “OH.” Duh. Robot, no mouth, no drinking. What an idiot.

“Thank you, though. I appreciate you thinking of me here when you’re the special one today, birthday boy.”

He was just being nice. It was a celebrity thing, even at a private party as a favor to a friend. Mettaton was just trying to be nice to a fan. And yet Papyrus felt his soul flutter in his chest anyway, and he near sputtered when he rushed to respond.

“OF! OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD ALWAYS STRIVE TO BE THE GREATEST HOST—! THANK YOU!”

Mettaton may not be able to drink anything, but Papyrus was ready for a good few hard drinks himself. It was perfect to get rid of all that pesky anxiety roiling in his soul, terrified of humiliating himself in front of the Mettaton. The knot in his ribcage loosened, and as he downed each grand gulp, he really did loosen up and began to just enjoy the party, without worrying over the judgment of certain (famous, handsome, talented, all-around-amazing) guests.

Which he found himself gushing about in the midst of his drunken haze, a heavy orange flush warming his cheekbones.

“Aw, thank you darling, you’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

Papyrus felt himself heating up and he leaned closer, his fingers tightening around the stem of his glass. “THANK YOU! I’VE REALLY BEEN SUCH A BIG FAN OF YOU FOR A LONG TIME. YOU’RE SO TALENTED AND HANDSOME AND RECTANGULAR AND YOU VOICE IS GORGEOUS.”

“You’ve got quite the talent yourself, sweetheart. Did you make the invitations by yourself?”

“YEAH!” His nodding was perhaps a bit more vigorous than was necessary. “I MEAN, MY BROTHER HELPED ME OUT WITH SOME OF THEM, BUT I SHOWED HIM HOW SO THAT EACH ONE WOULD BE SPECIAL!”

“I noticed that they were unique. I ended up getting two of them, after all.”

Papyrus’ eye sockets went wide. “TWO OF THEM?”

Oh god, what if Mettaton thought that he was behind both invitations and decided that he was annoying and clingy because of it? How did Undyne get two of them? Why did she give him two?”

“Yes. One from your… boisterous friend over there…” Mettaton jerked his thumb in the direction of Undyne, and Papyrus near died from embarrassment at the suggestive looks that Undyne was still shooting at the two of them. “…and then one from dear Alphys over there.”

(Who was also giving them looks, apparently. God.)

“WELL I’M SORRY ABOUT THAT. I’M SO HAPPY THAT YOU CAME THOUGH.”

“It’s no problem. The invitations are charming. I love the generous use of glitter. They’re gorgeous.”

‘Gaudy’ was what Sans called them, ‘but in a good way’. Papyrus didn’t know what that meant, but he was glad to hear that Mettaton liked them.

“THANK YOU!!! I’VE BEEN DOING A LOT OF CRAFTS SINCE WE CAME UP TO THE SURFACE—HUMANS HAVE ENTIRE STORES DEDICATED TO ONLY CRAFT SUPPLIES! HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO ONE? THEY’RE WONDERFUL!”

“Oh? Sometime after your party you’ll have to show me some of your work.”

“ABSOLUTELY, YES!”

“alright folks, time for a birthday classic: ‘pin the tail on the donkey’!”

Sans was standing in the middle of the room, holding a blindfold aloft. When he’d gotten those things were beyond Papyrus, because they certainly did not plan on pin the tail on the donkey as a game. Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets at his brother, unable to glance over at Mettaton.

“SANS, THAT IS A GAME FOR BABYBONES!”

“c’mon bro, let’s get some healthy competition in here.”

“Sounds fun!” Before Papyrus could continue his reprimand, Mettaton cut in, draping an arm around Papyrus’ shoulders. “But if you were intimidated by my prowess I would absolutely understand.”

Intimidated? Him?

“OH, NO NO, I AM THE MASTER OF ALL SORTS OF GAMES INVOLVING BLINDFOLDS AND PINS! I WILL DESTROY YOU IN PINNING THIS TAIL ON THIS DONKEY!”

For some reason, his comment had Mettaton laughing, withdrawing his arm from around Papyrus’ shoulder to press a fist to his display screen. “Of course, darling. Just wait until I’ve pinned that tail spot on.”

“YOU ARE ON, METTATON!”

Never had Papyrus been so hyped up to annihilate someone at a children’s party game. He pushed away, immediately swaying in place as the room spun around him. Oh right. Might be a bit of a handicap since he’d had a few drinks.

No matter. Mettaton would need that handicap with Papyrus’ incredible skills.

———————————————————————————

His skull throbbed. He massaged his fingers against it, leaning into his hand as he sat at the kitchen table. There was the hum of voices coming from the other room, mingled with the music of the continuing party. Most of his guests had been concerned, but Papyrus had assured that he’d be right back, after he sat down for a little bit.

Mettaton stood next to him, a reassuring hand rubbing his back.

“Are you feeling alright, darling? Do you need me to call your brother in here?”

Papyrus waved him off, biting back a groan at the splitting pain in his head. “NO, NO, LET HIM HAVE FUN. HE’S PROBABLY BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS LONGER THAN I HAVE. ARE YOU ALRIGHT, METTATON? I’VE GOT BONES OF STEEL.”

Unlike humans, skeletons weren’t exactly in danger of brain damage. The pain would pass and Papyrus would be fine. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he’d damaged Mettaton’s body.

“You’re fine. I’ve got a body of steel—well, maybe not steel, but I’m made of some tough, high-quality materials as befitting of an entertaining robot.”

Good. Papyrus gave him a strained smile through the pain. “I’M GLAD OF THAT. I’M SORRY I TRIPPED AND BASHED MY HEAD AGAINST YOUR SCREEN LIKE THAT. YOU SHOULD GO HAVE FUN THOUGH. I’LL COME OUT SOON.”

He still couldn’t believe that the moment that his brother had tied the blindfold around his face for his turn, Papyrus had managed to lose his balance in his sightlessness, and knocked his skull right into Mettaton’s face. It’d been so uncool of him.

Mettaton hadn’t made him feel bad about it once, though.

“No, I’ll stay with you tonight, birthday boy. I wouldn’t want you to be miserable and alone on your birthday.” There was a smile in his voice, though there was no mouth to smile with, and the robot leaned in close. “Why don’t you tell me about what you like doing when you aren’t too busy falling for me?”

If Mettaton had eyes in his current form, Papyrus would swear that he’d be winking at him.

“WELL, I’M QUITE THE CHEF…!”

———————————————————————————

They chatted for much of the night, well after the pain in Papyrus’ skull had faded. He didn’t even realize how long they’d been in the kitchen until Mettaton caught sight of the time, and announced that he needed to leave for the night.

“Tonight was a blast, darling, I’d love to spend more time with you sometime. Here you go, if you can remember tomorrow.” An arm extended, a slip of paper in hand. With a number on it.

Oh god, Mettaton was giving him his number.

Papyrus’s cheekbones flushed with more than the alcohol now.

“YES! YES, I’D LOVE TO CALL YOU! AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH YOU, I MEAN!”

The lights on his front panel flashed in what seemed to be amusement. “Glad to here it. I can’t wait for your call, then, Papyrus, good night sweetheart!”

“GOODNIGHT METTATON! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING! AND FOR YOUR NUMBER!”

He felt like he was in a daze, and not just from the alcohol. The rest of the night passed by without him remembering much other than bits and pieces of it—saying goodbye to one or two people, Undyne nudging him hard in the ribs and winking at him as she left, falling into bed—and all the while he kept glancing at the little slip of paper that Mettaton had given him.

Best birthday party ever. He was so glad that Sans had talked him into having one.

———————————————————————————

Papyrus stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the calendar on the wall, at the little red line marking out his birthday as another day passed. The card was in his hand, his fingers fidgeting with edges, bending in the corners. There was a part of him that still couldn’t believe that this was happening, that the entirety of yesterday was an alcohol-induced dream, and any moment now he’d have an abrupt awakening, and it will have all been fake.

He became aware of Sans’s presence at his side. Papyrus didn’t know when his brother had gotten there, but there they both were now, staring like a couple of boneheads at the wall.

“lots of days have passed by, huh? can’t believe we made it—here on the surface so long that you had a birthday up here and everything.”

That wasn’t what Papyrus had been thinking, but now that Sans brought it up, he realized that his brother was right. So many red lines, each one marking the passage of time. Each one another day spent on the surface.

And the last one was his birthday. His birthday where he had gotten the Mettaton’s personal phone number.

“OH MY GOD.” He said the words with a soft exhale. His gaze was on the wall, but he was hyper-aware of the paper in his hand. “YEAH.”

Out of his periphery, he saw his brother tilt his head to look up at him. Papyrus was too dazed to return the look.

“wonder how many more, huh?”

Well that was ominous. Papyrus tore his eyes away to lock gazes with his brother—dark sockets meeting empty ones. He shivered, but forced a smile onto his face.

“PLENTY MORE FOR ME TO PLAN NEXT YEAR’S PARTY! MORE GAMES, MORE FUN, MORE INVITATIONS! JUST WAIT, YOU’LL SEE SANS. THERE’LL BE A MILLION MORE LINES ON THE CALENDAR!”

“heh.” The lights returned to his brother’s eye sockets, an amused tilt to his grin. “can’t wait, bro.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Papyrus found that, for the very first time, he was excited for the next year, and for his next birthday to come. He was glad that Sans suggested it this time, and that he agreed to it. It turned out to be his best year yet. Lost in his thoughts for the future, Papyrus almost forgot the reason he’d been standing so absentmindedly in the kitchen in the first place. Almost, until…

“so when’re you planning to call him up?”


	2. Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you woo a robot? It’s all about the timing and playing the game and trying not to play the game and listening to your brother’s advice and… well, how complicated can asking your idol to hang out possibly be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post fic updates a few days early and take requests on my Tumblr: https://aroseandapen.tumblr.com/

“DO YOU THINK IT’S BEEN ENOUGH TIME? I MEAN, HE JUST GAVE ME HIS NUMBER LAST NIGHT, BUT DO YOU THINK THAT IT’S ALRIGHT FOR ME TO CALL HIM NOW?”

The glowing eyelights of his brother trailed after him as Papyrus paced back and forth in the kitchen. His phone was gripped tight in his hand, a phone number displayed on the screen as his thumb hovered over the ‘Call’ option. At the rate he was going, he was going to wear a rut into the tiles.

“don’t break your phone, bro.” Sans didn’t seem like he could be bothered to lift his head, skull pillowed against his crossed arms on the table. “you’re going to crush it.”

“I DON’T WANT HIM TO THINK THAT I’M TOO CLINGY!” Papyrus forged onward as if he hadn’t heard him. “I MEAN, YES HE TOLD ME THAT I SHOULD CALL HIM, BUT I DON’T WANT TO DO IT TOO SOON!”

“i don’t know why you gotta wait at all, paps. he gave you his number so you can call him, so why don’ you?”

Papyrus came to a halt to stamp his foot against the floor. “THAT’S BECAUSE YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE SUBTLETY OF DATING! THERE’S RULES TO THIS! AND ALTHOUGH I’VE BEEN STUDYING QUITE HARD, THE MANUAL DOESN’T HAVE ALL THE RULES TO IT! THERE’S TONS OF UNWRITTEN ONES, AND YOU HAVE TO BE VERY CAREFUL _NOT_ TO CALL THE OBJECT OF YOUR AFFECTIONS TOO EARLY!”

“heh. guess you’re right, bro.” Sans closed one lazy eyesocket at him, eyelight fixed on him. “but i think you should call him. mettaton’s a real intense guy. don’t want to make him wait for ya.”

Silence fell in the kitchen. Sans continued to gaze up at him as Papyrus stared down at his phone. Various phases of emotion ran through him, each one flickering onto his expression for an instant before it was replaced by the next.

He settled on stunned realization.

“OH MY GOD.”

On the one hand, Papyrus knew that Mettaton was a monster who lived for dramatics. It was his job. Playing games and making well-timed moves was just the sort of thing that he’d expect. If Papyrus didn’t play along, he might think that the skeleton had no class and thus wasn’t worth spending time with. He couldn’t seem to desperate. Yet on the other hand…

Could his brother actually have a point? It made sense. Mettaton was a man of the screen, soaking in the limelight and in the adoration of his peers. If Papyrus left him waiting for too long in this, Mettaton might think that he was disinterested, or that he was the type to keep him sitting around in the dark for no reason. That he was rude and crass and not the type of person that Mettaton would grace his presence with.

That was even worse than not playing the timing game.

“YOU’RE RIGHT!” How complicated all this was. He didn’t know what exactly he was meant to do, but the least risky course of action would be to call as soon as possible. “I’LL CALL HIM NOW!”

His thumb twitched down toward the ‘call’ button, but didn’t quite hit the screen. With eyes fixed once again on his screen, he didn’t see the tilt of amusement in his brother’s grin.

“so?”

Papyrus didn’t look at him. “SO WHAT?”

“you gonna call him or what?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth squeaked together. The sound made him flinch ever so slightly. Why was it so hard to call?

“OF COURSE I AM! WHAT’S IT LOOK LIKE I’M DOING?”

Out of his periphery, he saw Sans shrug.

“i dunno. guess i’m no expert on phones, but it sort of looks like you… aren’t calling him.”

“I AM,” he snipped back, frowning down at his phone. “I’M JUST… WORKING UP TO IT.”

“ah. sure, gotcha bro.”

Papyrus’ gaze flicked up toward his brother, brow bones drawn together. The tone was kept neutral, but Papyrus knew Sans. He was being made fun of, or goaded, or something of that nature. His frown deepened, and he spun on his heel with a noise of disgust, poised to stomp out of the kitchen.

“UGH, YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE! I’M GOING TO MY ROOM, WHERE I CAN HAVE SOME PRIVACY, AND NOT HAVE YOU LISTENING IN ON MY VERY PERSONAL PHONE CALLS TO METTATON THAT I AM ABSOLUTELY GOING TO MAKE WITHOUT A MOMENT MORE OF HESITATION!”

“sounds like a plan,” Sans drawled back in that same unimpressed voice that was driving Papyrus up the wall.

“YES! IT IS! DON’T FALL ASLEEP AT THE TABLE WHILE I’M GONE! I KNOW YOU HAVE WORK TODAY AND I’M NOT GOING TO STAND FOR YOU MISSING OUT ON IT BECAUSE I’M BUSY WITH A PHONE CALL!” He threw a scolding glare over his shoulder, before he at last hurried from the kitchen to make a beeline for the safety of his room.

As soon as his door shut behind him and he was alone, Papyrus felt a rush of relief. He loved his brother dearly, but he couldn’t take the expectancy of having his side of the phone conversation listened in on. He was already anxious enough! Mettaton was someone that he’d looked up to for so long now, since the celebrity first appeared on the screens in the Underground. He didn’t even know that his own best friend had already known him! Personally! Not until she’d told him, shortly after the barrier had broken under rather mysterious circumstances.

Papyrus had felt cheated! How could Undyne have kept such valuable information from him, knowing how the skeleton adored everything MTT?

Regardless, all that was in the past now, and somehow Papyrus’ drunken self had managed to obtain his idol’s personal phone number, with the offer to hang out once they were sober. He could feel the warm glow in his cheekbones, along with the nervous flutter in his soul. Oh what had it been that had so charmed Mettaton enough to give him this number? Could he replicate it when they hung out again?

Maybe he should just be constantly drunk in all of their interactions?

He shook his head. That was silly! Surely all he’d need to do would be to keep honest at all times and not spend so much time worrying over how to impress Mettaton! Of course. That was what it said to do in his dating manual. Not that it was a date! Just… great advice that he could apply to his very friendly and very platonic hang outs!

Right! They were just going to spend some fun platonic time together!

With that in mind, Papyrus finally worked up the courage to hit the ‘call’ button. He held it to the side of his skull, listening to it ring once… twice… three times… fou—

“Hello?”

At the sound of Mettaton’s voice, Papyrus’ fragile confidence in the call near-failed him. He faltered, almost dropping his phone in surprise. A part of him hadn’t even expected Mettaton to answer at all!

“H-HELLO METTATON! IT IS I, PAPYRUS! YOU GAVE ME Y-YOUR NUMBER LAST NIGHT!” Curse the stammer and the anxious warble of his voice. He winced at the echo of his voice through the speaker. How uncool of him. Mettaton probably thought so too!

“Ahh, the birthday boy.” The way that Mettaton purred out the words had Papyrus flushing. “I’m glad you called so soon. You don’t have too bad a hangover, I hope.”

“NOT AT ALL! I AM A MAN OF IRON WILL AND MAGIC! I WILL NOT BE CONQUERED BY ALCOHOL!”

There was a soft noise on the other end of the line and… was Mettaton laughing at him?

“Good to hear it, Papy—oh, can I call you that? Your name is wonderfully unique, but Papy sounds cute.”

“YES!!! PAPY IS ABOLUTELY FINE!” Mettaton could call him anything, and Papyrus would take to the nickname like a starving man to food.

“Great! Anyway Papy, as I was saying, I’m really glad that you called me so soon, because I wanted to ask you something.”

Half in a daze, Papyrus answered, “YES? WHAT WOULD THAT BE?”

“There’s a new restaurant opening that promises to be one of the most popular in the city, and I just so happen to have some contacts that can get me one of the very first reservations. Would you like to accompany me?”

Mettaton had beat him to the punch of asking to hang out, and had gotten right to the point, too! Papyrus wouldn’t dream of refusing.

“YES! OF COURSE! I’D LOVE TO COME WITH YOU!”

“Great to hear it, darling! It’s a date! I’ll text you my address. Just come by my place by six, and I’ll treat you to a night that you’ll never forget. Goodbye, Papy-dear! I’ll see you then!”

There was a click and the line went dead as Mettaton hung up, leaving Papyrus to stand there in stunned silence.

“GOODBYE…” he said belatedly, with nothing but the quiet of his room to hear him.

Wowie, that had been surprisingly easy, and immensely satisfying. Now he would get to hang out with Mettaton! On a date! On a…

“ _OH MY GOD._ ”

Realization hit him in the face like a speeding freight truck. Papyrus all but collapsed, sitting down hard on his bed as the feeling ran out from his legs. He’d just set up a real, actual, romantic date with the coolest, most handsome, most talented inspirations from the Underground. (Aside from himself, obviously)

He’d barely even said a word in the short phone call, and somehow had managed to score a date with the hottest box in the world.

“OH MY GOD, I’M GOING ON A DATE.”


	3. Intermission 1 (Making a Snowman)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't continue the story of previous chapters, but Papyrus and Mettaton in Snowdin creating snowmen in order to impress each other. (Part of an 11 day OTP Christmas list)

A hint of a metal tongue poked out from the corner of Mettaton’s lips as he focused on the stacked piles of snow in front of him. Although he couldn’t see out of his right eye through his hair that fell in front of his face, he still had it screwed shut in concentration, determined to make the snowman as perfectly spherical as possible. He had a fellow artist to impress, after all.

A fellow artist who, by the way, happened to be his cute and adoring boyfriend.

Satisfied with the smooth roundness of his snow, Mettaton stepped back to survey his work. After a moment of thought, he dug two holes for eyes into the snowman’s face, trying to imitate the wideness of his boyfriend’s eye sockets, although he didn’t think he’d ever be able to capture their warmness even if he had a year and endless materials to do it with. He punched a holey grin for the mouth with his index finger, wide enough to rival even  _his_ best smile.

And at last it was done.

“Alright…”

“I’M FINISHED!”

Before Mettaton could announce his own completion, Papyrus’ voice rang out the short distance between them. Curious to see what sort of creation his sweet skeleton boyfriend had made, he turned to take a look.

His jaw dropped.

“SO… WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

“It’s…”

Unique. Indescribable. Baffling. Mettaton could find a million words that wouldn’t quite encompass the feelings that stirred in his chest when he beheld the snowy art Papyrus had produced.

It couldn’t even be called a snowman.  _Mettaton_  had made a snowman. Papyrus had created some sculpture beyond anything he’d ever seen made out of snow before. Instead of the spheres that encompassed a classic snowman, Papyrus had produced an almost perfect snow-copy of Mettaton himself. Even the shape of his chest plate had the same sharp edges, and Papyrus had lovingly put in each tiny detail. Mettaton felt like he could reach out and comb his fingers through the snow-Mettaton’s hair, it was so realistic.

If Mettaton wasn’t standing right there looking at it, he would’ve thought that he’d had an encounter with a Medusa who turned him into stone and left him to get covered in a fresh snowfall.

“…amazing.”

“REALLY?” Papyrus brightened at his quiet comment. He looked like he could float right up off the ground through the power of his own excitement. “THANK YOU! I MODELED IT AFTER THE HANDSOMEST NON-SKELETON IN THE WORLD!”

Mettaton crossed the space between them, draping his arms around Papyrus’ shoulders. He pecked a kiss on the front of his mouth. “You have the best taste, babe.”

Papyrus’ smile turned wry, and he wrapped his arms around Mettaton’s waist. “THAT IS TRUE. ALSO, THIS IS ONLY THE HEAD AND TORSO BUT, IF IT WAS THE FULL BODY… IT’D ALSO HAVE THE NICEST BUTT.”

“Oh! Well, I can’t argue with that.” Mettaton didn’t know what to say to that; all he could think of doing was sliding his hands to Papyrus’ chest, curling his hands into his scarf, and tugging him in for a hard kiss.

When he pulled away, he slipped out of Papyrus’ arms, pulling the scarf from his neck and taking it with him. Without a word, he wrapped the length of fabric around the ‘neck’ of his own snowman. He spun around with a dramatic flourish of his arms in its direction.

“Behold! My own snowman,  _also_  modeled after the most handsome skeleton I’ve ever known,” he announced, even though the round curves looked nothing like the bones of the man before him.

That didn’t stop from Papyrus’ eye sockets going wide and round in what Mettaton could only describe as awe. When he spoke, his own voice was as quiet and reverent as Mettaton’s reaction had been.

“…IT’S PERFECT.”


	4. Intermission 2 (Drinking Hot Chocolate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus and Mettaton enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate together. Sort of. (Part of an 11 day OTP Christmas list)

“Cocoa’s ready!”

Mettaton swept into the living room, a large steaming mug in each hand. He walked with his back straight, cups held aloft, gliding across the carpeted floor from the door to couch without spilling a single drop. Eager hands reached out to accept one of the mugs from him, which he happily gave over, and he set his own mug on a coaster set out ready for him.

“THANK YOU, SUGAR CHEEKS!” Papyrus chirped out, cradling the mug close. “IT SMELLS GOOD.”

“You know I make the best hot chocolate.” And also the drink always smelled good regardless. The hint of cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled over the top just enhanced the experience, but Mettaton would take full credit.

“THAT IS TRUE!”

Mettaton lowered himself onto the couch, taking care not to jostle Papyrus and the brimming mug in his hands. Although he wouldn’t bat an eye if his boyfriend spilled a little on the plush fabric, he still liked the couch quite a bit and didn’t want to risk getting an entire cupful on it. Then he’d have to replace it, and he’d  _never_  find one just like it.

Once he’d sat down and the hot chocolate was safe and unspilled, he turned to the spread on the coffee table. He’d set out a can of whipped cream, more for himself than for Papyrus who wasn’t too fond of it, and three bags of marshmallows of varying sizes.

“Would you like some marshmallows? I have jumbo-jet, regular, and mini ones,” he said, picking up each bag as he mentioned it and setting it back down.

“MINI, OF COURSE! THEY ARE THE SUPERIOR ‘MALLOWS!”

Mettaton’s smile twitched as he picked up the requested marshmallows, ripping open the bag with a touch more force than necessary. “Ah, but darling, jumbo-jet are the best. You know this.”

“METTATON, I RESPECT YOUR OPINION, BUT IT’S WRONG.” Papyrus scooped out a tiny handful of the marshmallows to deposit them into the hot chocolate.

“Your tiny marshmallows wouldn’t even exist without the bigger forms. They would just be marshmallows.”

“SO WOULD THE JUMBO ONES.”

“Ah, right. Then it seems that we have reached an impasse.”

“SO IT SEEMS.”

A silence followed their truce. Mettaton took the chance to place a hearty dollop of whipped cream on top of his drink. It smothered the steam, disguising the still near-boiling liquid underneath.

“Now be careful,” he said, turning to face Papyrus. “It’s still really hot, so–.”

Papyrus tipped his head back and took a huge gulp straight from his mug. Mettaton’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my goodness,  _Papyrus_! Isn’t that too hot?”

“NOPE!” Despite his claim, his shoulders stiffened and he sat tense. “SKELETONS DON’T HAVE SKIN! I DON’T FEEL A THING.”

Mettaton stared at Papyrus hard. A bare hint of tears gathered at the corners of his eye sockets. His hands gripped the mug as if his life depended on it, with a subtle shake that Mettaton would’ve missed if not for his scrutiny.

“…baby, are you ok?”

Papyrus didn’t answer for a long time.

A minute crawled by, and at least he gave a tense nod.

“IT’S VERY HOT,” he whispered.

“Aww, Papy.” Mettaton scooted closer, cupping the side of Papyrus’ face. His thumb fit perfectly into the hollow of his cheekbone. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Papyrus nodded. “YES, PLEASE.”

He set his mug on the table, and then took Papyrus’ mug to do the same with his, returning his hand to its place on Papyrus’ face. They’d need as few obstacles as possible for what he had in mind.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he purred, leaning in until there was a bare centimeter of space between their mouths. His breath ghosted over Papyrus’ teeth, earning him a shudder of want. “I’m going to make it all better.”


	5. Intermission 3 (Decorating a tree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus makes a tree, and it might be a little unorthodox.

It may not be a real tree, but it lent itself to the spirit of the Christmas tree regardless. If the spirit of Christmas trees was a thousand sharp needles in a metal coat and disarmed the onlooker with colorful lights that disguised just how dangerous it was.

“Someone could poke their eye out on this,” Mettaton remarked, standing back to look at the sculpture that took the place of their tree that year. A ‘skullpture’, as Sans had christened it to Papyrus’ endless chagrin.

“FORTUNATELY I DO NOT HAVE EYES, AND YOURS ARE METAL!”

Unperturbed by how an unlucky fall near their fake tree could injure either of them, Papyrus continued to lovingly wrap garland around it. The needles stabbed through at more than a few points, fraying the threads that held the decoration together. Mettaton eyed it with a frown. These decorations wouldn’t last until Christmas.

The last two years, they’d gone out to pick out a tree together, once with Sans tagging along to assault his brother with his entire arsenal of holiday and tree related jokes. A few of them had even dragged a grin from their poor victim, quickly hidden behind one of his gloves. None of his concealment though could fool Mettaton; he could tell that his boyfriend--no, his fiance now--enjoyed the banter just as much as Sans clearly did.

This year, however, Papyrus proclaimed that he wanted to make the Christmas tree himself, to make their first Christmas after their recent engagement just that more special. At the time Mettaton exclaimed that it was a wonderful idea. He’d imagined fake cardboard branches, bundled together paper pin needles with brightly colored string. Papyrus certainly had the skills for it--he’d seen plenty of his incredibly realistic works. And in a way, Papyrus had done exactly what he expected.

Except made of metal, and much more dangerous than anything Mettaton himself had ever used before.

“You really outdid yourself with this, Papy.”

“THANK YOU! MY INSPIRATION FOR THIS WAS COMBINING THE BEST PART OF ANY PUZZLE AND CHRISTMAS!”

Ah, right, spikes. How could he not see?

Mettaton picked up a glittery puff ball, and stuck in on one of the needles. The point poked through, but he could imagine the thousands of needles all covered in vibrant colored balls. His mouth tilted up in a smile. Maybe he could get into this tree. After all, Papyrus was right. Neither of them really had eyes _to_ get poked out anyway, and Mettaton couldn’t deny that he liked the allure of a little danger in his life.

No one would have a tree quite as unique and thrilling as theirs, that was for sure.


End file.
